-Story Info-

Title: The Rancher and the Outlaw

Author: Alysza

Characters: Bonnie MacFarlane, Jack Marston

Shipping Pair: Very minor Bonnie x John hints

Spoilers: Yes

Spoiler Severity: Major. Please do not read until you have finished the game.

Summary:

MAJOR SPOILERS! Bonnie MacFarlane is woken up in the middle of the night to be notified that the son of John Marston was being held in the ranch jail. This meeting could be the beginning of an unbreakable friendship, if Bonnie can turn Jack's life around.

Author's Note: First RDR fanfiction. I have to the entire story plotted out and I hope to have the first finished RDR fanfiction.

The night had finally drawn close, with the last rays of the sun's light just barely peering over the horizon. Heat surrendered to the coolness, and the stars slowly began to dot the sky.

Behind him, the cow lowly called out in distress, but a quick yank on it's rope quieted the creature. Jack removed his hat and swiped his arm across his forehead. Sweat had collected from the muggy day, waiting for the ranch hands to retire to their beds. He had visited here before, and had seemingly forgotten about how the MacFarlane's helped him in the past. Money, after all, could make anyone forget, even Jack Marston.

The whole operation was going smoothly; Jack was to abduct a cow from the ranch, and bring it to the outskirts of the ranch where an outlaw from the Bollard Twin's gang would be awaiting his arrival with a hefty price for his troubles. Five hundred dollars; Jack couldn't turn down that offer, even though he didn't seem to intent on spending it on anything significant.

Jack could see his dark figure waiting at the top of the hill, just beyond the tracks. Jack dug his spurs ever so slightly into the side of his dark stallion, pressuring the horse to move just a bit faster. The cow once more mooed it's disdain. When Jack turned to silence it, he felt a rope close around his torso. He gasped, reaching for his gun, but not before he got pulled onto the ground. His horse reared up, stabbing wildly at the sky. The cow pulled away, thrashing it's head. Jack struggled on the ground, his fingers tickling the top of his gun, but he was unable to get a firm grip.

Lights shone upon his face, and Jack's heart hammered against his ribcage. The lasso rope he once had in his hand was dragged onto the ground when the cow began to jog away, but Jack was more focused on getting free. He squirmed in every direction, but soon the ranch hands lighted down upon him, tying him like a hog. Jack let loose a guttural growl.

"You'll regret this! You'll wish you was never born when I get a hold of you!" Jack screamed, thrashing. His shouts of rage were only answered by the guffaws of the men around him. A foot came in harsh contact with his face. He bared his teeth, but a fist pounded into his cheek. Jack's ears rang. He tried again to struggle, but another fury of kicks was dealt to his side, until blood leaked from his lips. Jack strained to keep his eyes open, fighting against unconsciousness. "You will all rue the day you crossed my path, the day you dared to lay a hand on Jack Marston!"

Blackness.

Bonnie was warmly coated with thick blankets, all the more so warm since they had been laying on top of her so long. Bonnie was having a pleasant night's sleep, surprising for her due to the amount of work her ranch demanded. Nonetheless, she had succumbed to the realms of sleep, only to be so rudely pulled away when her door creaked open.

Bonnie's eyes flew open.

"Miss MacFarlane?" It was the foreman's voice.

Bonnie sat up, peering into the darkness at the outline of his shape. "Why the hell are you waking me up at this ungodly hour?" She muttered, rubbing her face and smoothing over her blone, untied hair. She pushed off her covers and swung her feet over the edge of the bed.

"It's... Well..." He rubbed his head. "Well, someone tried to rustle some cattle."

"Did you catch 'em?"

"Yes'm."

"Then why, if you don't mind me questioning your prestige logic, did you wake me up if you have the situation under control?"

"Well you see, Miss MacFarlane... I think you know our cattle rustler."

"I ain't acquainted with no cattle rustler, Mr. Davis."

"Well... Er... Get dressed. I think you'd like to meet him regardless."

Bonnie sighed, and shooed him out with a wave of her hand. She shed her night clothing and rummaged through her clothing. She draped over her body with the basic necessities, then added a layer of warm clothing.

She made her way over to her door, opened it, finding Mr. Davis waiting.

"All right, lead the way." Bonnie rubbed her eyes again, finding her way along in the dimly lit house to the porch, out to the foreman's office. Mr. Davis stopped them at the door of the ranch jail.

"Miss MacFarlane, you do recall John Marston?"

Bonnie paused, then nodded with confusion. "Yes, I did, before he died some years ago. Why?"

"His son was the one trying to steal our cattle." Mr. Davis pushed the door open. Bonnie was overwelmed, not by the amount of ranch hands at once in the jail, but all of them fondling and examining a vast array of weapons, from the familiar Winchester repeater, to a unreconizeable hand gun. Cast aside in a small pile were a few sticks of dynamite, fire bottles, knives, gun mazagines and a rope. Bonnie gawked at all of the ranch hands. Her attention was called to one of the jail cells, however, where a bruised and bloody young man stood, his teeth gritted and hands holding firm on the iron bars, was yelling at the ranch hands.

"Put down my weapons! Careful with that! That's not a toy, you fools! That was my father's, give it back! You'll regret messing with me, the son of John Marston! I'll-"

"Everyone, get out!" Bonnie screeched, her hair frazzled and fists clenched tight. There was a simotanous clatter of guns hitting the ground, as well as the rapid retreating steps of the ranch hands. Bonnie sighed and swiped away the stray hairs in front of her eyes. She closed her eyes, rubbing at her forehead.

"Ma'am?" Jack huffed lowly. Bonnie's head snapped up, eyes blazing. "I hate to be unpolite to a lady such as yourself, but I ain't playin' when I say that you and everyone else will regret locking me up here!"

"I can't believe this." Bonnie exclaimed, stalking towards Jack's jail cell, taking little notice to his threat. "I just can't begin to fathom how you ended up here. You were such a nice boy. Such a bright future. Yet you wound up here, thanks to your crimes and cattle rustlin'. "

"Do I know you?" Jack asked, expression growing increasingly puzzled.

"As you can see, Mr. Marston... that's something I haven't said in awhile..." Bonnie whirled around, eying the guns on the ground. "I ain't afraid to order my men around. If you want out of here with your life and a clear name, you'll listen up."

Jack cocked his head, releasing his hands on the bar and poking his arms through. "Gee. Well alright."

"Now, I can see you're just a stupid as your father was. But not quite the gentlemen."

Jack stiffened. "My father was not-" He started to yell with ire emotion, but was cut off by Bonnie.

"Did I say you could speak?"

"I'll speak if I—"

"Good God, you're just a wily as he was!"

"... How do you know my father?"

"John Marston wound up at this ranch after he went out and picked a fight with Bill Williamson's gang. They shot him and left him for the vultures. Would have been wormfood if I hadn't come along. I took him in, saved his life, and in turn, he saved my life three times over. Saved our cattle, saved our horses, and saved my own neck. While your father was a noble man, you don't seem too keen on keepin' the Marston name clean. And that's just a shame."

Jack seemed wordless for a time, gawping at Bonnie. After a time, he seemed to muster up the words to speak. "I remember you!"

"Oh?"

"You sold my Pa some cattle 'bout three years ago! You sure did take a likin' to 'em. My ma didn't seem to happy 'bout that. What's yer name again?"

Bonnie cracked a smile. "Bonnie MacFarlane. How is your Ma?"

"Dead." Jack replied coldly.

"I can just see her and your father rollin' over in their graves over this whole business."

Silence.

"Well, Mr. Marston," Bonnie crossed her arms, leaning onto one leg. "If you can ranch like your father could, I sure wouldn't mind if you paid off the debt of your crime doin' some work 'round the ranch."

Jack blinked. "Well... I could try." He scratched his head, and then, remembered his hat was gone. " I did have a few dollars, but your damn ranch hands took it all and stowed it God knows where."

"Well, you'll get your money back soon-"

"Um, Miss MacFarlane?"

"Bonnie." Bonnie corrected harshly.

"Bonnie," Jack said carefully. "Can I have my hat back? It was my father's."

Bonnie glanced around, and spied the hat perched upon the foreman's desk, she reached, retrieved it, and handed it to Jack.

"Thank ya kindly," He pulled it through the bars and snugly dressed his head. "So you gonna let me out then?"

"Nope."

"But-"

"You'll pay off your debt in due time, and I'd much rather prefer another hand on the ranch than twenty dollars. Maybe you'll get some respect for this ranch if you work where your father did. 'Til then, I'll jes' keep you here until I can trust you enough not to run off. I don't want to insult your intelligence, Mr. Marston, but it's just the way it's gonna have to work."

Jack nodded slowly, pushing about from the jail cell bars and backing up onto the bench in the cell. He watched silently as Bonnie stepped over his guns and left for the night.